


Unwise

by GalahadWilder



Series: The October Fic Drive [3]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-01-29 19:54:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21415762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalahadWilder/pseuds/GalahadWilder
Summary: Ladybug is exhausted, and Chat convinces her to finally start bringing on the temp wielders permanently.Unfortunately for Chat's poor kitty brain, she chooses to use that opportunity to set up Multimouse with Aspik.He is SO SCREWED.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Series: The October Fic Drive [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1530461
Comments: 118
Kudos: 763





	1. In Which Chat is Slightly Less Helpful Than He Thinks He Is

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AlexSeanchai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexSeanchai/gifts), [Callmedale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callmedale/gifts).

Ever since Max got Akumatized again, patrol has been a quiet hell. Chat is fairly certain he knows why: based on comments she made during the Gamer fight, it seems like being Ladybug _and_ training to be the new Guardian (_and_ whatever else she has going on in her civilian life—she may not _be_ Marinette, but given how similar they are he’s willing to bet she’s just as busy as a civilian) has left her with no time to do any of the things that calm her. Apparently Fu outright told her that her training was complete way earlier than she expected, meaning she has a mantle of responsibility she isn’t ready for but none of the choice that goes with it. His Lady is quietly collapsing, and try as she might to hide it, he can tell. The bags under her eyes are extending past the bottom of her mask, and her shoulders are almost constantly up by her ears.

It’s only been a week, and Chat realizes that if this keeps going on, Ladybug is going to burn out. Which means he _has_ to do something. Her responsibility is Paris; his responsibility is her.

She misses a step, on a rooftop halfway through patrol, stumbles into his arms—he can’t help noticing how familiar it feels. “Okay,” he says, quietly. “We’re stopping here for tonight.”

Ladybug shakes her head. “I can keep going,” she mumbles, her eyes closed.

Chat cradles her cheek in his palm, and it’s a testament to how exhausted she is that she melts into it without even a token protest. “_You_ keep telling _me_ that ‘can’ doesn’t mean ‘have to,’” he says, trying to control his voice as she snuggles into him. “You need _rest_, Bug.”

“Hypocrite,” she mumbles, lazily smacking his side.

“_Expendable_ hypocrite,” he retorts.

She opens her mouth to protest, but he sits down, yanking her into his lap before she has time to speak. She squeaks instead.

“Kitty purrs time,” he says, pressing her against his chest as he begins to rumble.

She gasps, quietly, snuggling in closer, and his purr interrupts for a moment as he swallows, trying to control his breathing, his blush.

They sit like that for a few minutes, Ladybug sinking into his arms, before Chat decides she’s calm enough to talk things through. “I think,” he says, “that we need to start bringing on some teammates. Full-time.”

Ladybug stiffens. “Chaton,” she whispers, “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

He closes his eyes and sighs. “Bugaboo, we can’t keep doing this by ourselves,” he says. “How long has it been since you’ve slept a full night?”

She looks away instead of answering.

He begins to press his palms into the small of her back, working out the kinks in her muscles. “We need help,” he says, carefully avoiding the word ‘you’—if she thinks she’s the only one hurting, he knows she’ll accept that and keep shouldering the burden until it breaks her. The only way he can convince her is if she thinks he needs it too. “I know Rena would jump at the chance, and Carapace seems like he would do anything if she asked.”

“I don’t want to put this on them,” she grumbles. “This is our job. They have lives outside of—”

Chat snorts. “_Your_ job is to protect Paris,” he says. “_My_ job is to look after a hyperactive genius who thinks she can’t go to bed until she’s _personally solved every problem in the city.” _He squeezes her protectively, not missing the way she whimpers in his arms. “If that means I have to meow annoyingly at you until you agree to start sharing the burden…”

“Chaton, I’m fi—“

“MEOOOOOOOWWWWWW!” he screeches into her ear.

She shrieks, trying to pull away, but he’s holding her too firmly. “Dammit, Chat!” she cries. “We can’t just have the other Miraculi out!” She shudders. “What if Hawkmoth ambushes one of them as a civilian?”

“What if you’re so sleep-deprived you can’t figure out how to use your Lucky Charm?” Chat rebuts. “Or I’m too slow and you get hit by something I can’t block?”

“Chaton—”

“Meeeeoooowwwww!” he interrupts, then takes a deep breath. He didn’t want to do this, but… he has to go for her weak spot. He _knows_ how painful this is to her—he knows about the night terrors she keeps having, the reason she was so wrecked once Gamer got taken down, but if it keeps her alive and sane he will do _whatever it takes_. “My Lady,” he says, “if we don’t start bringing on a team I am_ going to die again._”

She stiffens in his arms. “_Don’t you dare_,” she hisses.

“It’s not like I have a _choice_!” he snaps. “You can’t—”

She scrambles out of his arms, shingles cracking beneath the force of her footfalls, and jabs him in the chest with her finger. “Don’t act like you can’t do this without me too, _Mister Bug!_”

He snatches her wrist. “Not as well as you can, and I think Reflekdoll _proved_ that!” he growls. Then he sighs. “Please, My Lady,” he says. “If you won’t do it for yourself… at least do it for me.”

She blinks up at him. “Chaton?” she whispers.

“I haven’t slept right in months,” he says. Not since Desperada, but she doesn’t want to know that part. “I keep seeing us… losing. You dead and broken and… and I’m by myself, and there’s nothing I can do to save you…” He’s shared more than he intended to, and his voice breaks as his chest squeezes tight. “Please,” he whispers. “At least Carapace. I can’t keep protecting you on my own.”

That got… uncomfortably truthful. He hadn’t meant to share that—hell, he hadn’t even _known_ he was feeling like that. But it’s obvious now, after his mouth ran away with him, that he’s as overwhelmed as she is. He’s been putting on a good show for his Instagram, but… when’s the last time _he’s_ slept a full night?

Ladybug stares at him, her lip quivering, and for a moment he’s sure she’s going to snap at him again. But then she sets her jaw. “I’m not bringing Queen Bee back,” she says. “I don’t trust her.”

The levee in Chat’s heart breaks, and his whole body is flooded with emotion at once. Instantly, his head is in her lap, pressed up against her stomach. “Thank you,” he gasps. “Thank you thank you _thank you_.” He’s sobbing into her lap, and she strokes his head, scratching just behind his ears in the way he loves so much; bliss shoots down from his scalp through his spine as he purrs urgently against her.

“Rena and Carapace, obviously,” she says.

He squirms, snuggling deeper into her arms. “Viperion seems competent,” he mumbles. “Thoughts on Monkey?”

“Hmm…” Ladybug says, and he can hear the mirth returning to her voice for the first time since he backed off the platform. “Childish and irresponsible. Keep him temp, I think.”

“Okay.” Chat nods. “I like Pegase, though.”

Ladybug nods. “Yeah, he’s pretty good,” she says. “I’ve been thinking about bringing Ryuko back too—she did pretty well against Gozen.”

“Agreed,” Chat says. Then the side of his mouth quirks down. This is probably not the best time to bring this up, not when she’s actually agreeing with him and this might cause her to reconsider, but… it’s kind of important. The rules are set for a reason. “Wait,” he says, “I know who Pegase and Ryuko are.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, so?”

It’s a bit petulant of him to ask, but… well, Marinette is so impressive that she’s the only person he’s ever seriously considered might be Ladybug, and if he hadn’t seen them both together on two separate occasions he’d still be pretty suspicious. “I thought you weren’t supposed to bring back wielders whose names I know?”

Ladybug launches to her feet, sending him sprawling out of her lap—then she leans down and locks eyes with him, and crushes his bell in her fingers. “No,” she spits, yanking him forward into a suspiciously exact replica of Marinette’s famous Penance Stare. “I am _not_ putting her back in the field.”

He’s not sure what to say. He knows she doesn’t want Multimouse back but he doesn’t know _why_—he has suspicions, but there’s no way, right? He’s been so careful with this whole conversation, and now Adrien Brain, which is so obsessed with _rules_ and _consistency,_ has just launched his foot through the ground into an occupied fire ant nest. His lungs shudder at the fire in her eyes, unable to even speak.

(He’s disappointed in his Chat Noir Brain as well, for being so excited at the incongruity of her reaction. Even after everything, she’s still oddly vehement about not using Multimouse.)

He wants to tell her that’s not what he meant, that he’s worried about bringing Ryuko and Pegase back but—something about her refusal to bring Marinette back rubs him the wrong way.

“_Why_?” he croaks, finally. His bell clonks a little bit in her hand instead of jingling. “You know she’s the best temp we’ve ever had—she did _both_ of our jobs!”

Ladybug’s eyelid twitches, and he realizes he’s crossed a line he didn’t know about. There’s something between her and Marinette; something he’s not aware of. The two girls have had some kind of relationship since before Evillustrator…

Ladybug trusts Marinette so much and has never specified the gender of the person she likes. And nobody seems to know who Marinette has a crush on. Is she… trying to protect her girlfriend?

She stares for a second, then collapses next to him and sighs. “Maybe I _should_ bring her back,” she grumbles.

“What? No!” Chat says, gripping at her wrist. “If you don’t want her back—”

“It’s not a _want_ thing,” Ladybug says. “I’m just… not sure she _can_.”

Chat bristles. “_What_?” he cries. Maybe… _not_ girlfriend? Does she… not _like_ Marinette? Is that it? “My Lady, I love you, but I will not allow you to besmirch the abilities of my precious mouse.”

Ladybug opens her mouth, but all that comes out is a weird gagging noise as her face turns bright red. “You have… that much faith in her?” she croaks.

Chat raises an eyebrow. “My Lady,” he says, “I only gave her my ring because I thought she was _you_.”

Ladybug chokes.

Chat can’t tell if she’s flattered or angry. “I remember you were friends,” he says. “Did something… happen between you two?”

Ladybug closes her eyes, licks her lips. “Have you ever worn two Miraculi at once?” she murmurs. “It… does things to your body.” She leans back against the shingles. “I think I asked more of her than I ever should have.”

“Oh,” Chat says. “No, I—no, I haven’t.” He has, actually; he’s wondered why he felt so tired as Aspik. He thought it was just being awake for three months, but Viperion never seemed to falter. “Is she okay?” He doesn’t _think_ Marinette’s been any worse, physically—but then, she’s been running so ragged lately, how can he tell?

Ladybug shrugs. “She’s fine,” she says. “Just needed a good night’s sleep.” She sighs, pressing her chin into her fist. “Wish I could bring Adrien back on,” she mumbles.

Chat’s heart inflates painfully in his chest like a balloon hooked up to an oxygen tank. Even after he failed her so many times, she still wants to bring him back on? “That guy you chose for the snake before Viperion?” he squeaks.

Her head snaps toward him. “You—you _knew_ about that?” she hisses.

Chat snorts. “I _saw_ Agreste with the egg-hood,” he says. “That is _not_ what Viperion looked like.”

Ladybug frowns. “Right,” she says. “Also?” She reaches up, flicks his nose. “Not happy with you for stealing his joke.”

Chat rolls his eyes, jabbing her in the tummy. “He stole _mine, _My Lady,” he says. “Anyway. Bringing him back on sounds like a great idea!”

She smiles, her cheeks dusting pink, then her face falls. “No,” she says. “No way.”

Chat’s chest squeezes. Oh, good, she hates him. “Why?” he says. “I mean, he may not have been the right snake, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t be good for another—”

“Why would I offer him a different Miraculous, Chat?” she snaps. “Did I not put him through enough hell the first time?”

_What?_

Chat looks at her with confusion. She… _doesn’t_ hate him? She’s been concerned about him?

“He spent _three months_ trying to save me without sleep,” she says. “I’m… pretty sure it broke him.” She clutches at her shoulders. “I trust him, Chaton, but… I can’t put him through that. Not again.”

Oh. Oh god.

“My Lady,” he says. He can see the guilt is killing her—he doesn’t want her to keep beating herself up over something that was _his_ choice. “You… he talked to me about that, actually.”

A look of horror flashes across her face. “What?” she says. “When?”

“Party Crasher,” he says. That’s plausible—Viperion was there, it was Adrien’s house, and there was a period Ladybug was unaccounted for. “He was actually hoping he’d get another shot to help you out.”

Her eyes widen, her cheeks dusting red. “_What_?” she squeaks.

“I—”

“Okay!” she yelps, shooting to her feet. “Okay okay.” She starts pacing, pressing her palms to her forehead. “I—Okay. So, I—I can bring him back?” She does an excited little bunny hop, and his head leaps. “I can bring him back!”

“You’re—pretty excited,” he says. “You know him?”

She freezes, her foot skittering on the roof. “That’s… complicated?” she says. “Anyway, we should decide who pairs up with who.” She sits back down, folding her knees into her chest. “Multimouse might be more comfortable with a more… experienced wielder?”

His eyebrows shoot up, and his stomach begins to flip. “Aspik has more experience than anyone except us,” he says. “You said three months, right?”

“Yep.” Ladybug starts shaking a little. “And… oh, this is—I’m not sure this is a great idea.”

“Why not?”

“Well, uh…” Ladybug bites her lip. “She’s, uh, she’s in love with him.”

Chat’s ears—both his human ones _and_ his cat ones—are suddenly crushed under a burning vise, and his lungs are full of cotton candy. “She’s what?” he croaks.

She looks askance at him. “Wait,” she says. “You didn’t know?”

“No?” he says.

Ladybug snorts. “Come on, Chat,” she says. “You’ve been _watching_ that class, right?” She reaches out and squeezes his shoulder. “I think the only person who doesn’t know about her crush is _him_.”

“Who did you hear this from?” he asks. “The—the Ladyblogger? She’s not exactly objective when it comes to them—”

Ladybug shakes her head. “Marinette told me herself,” she says. “She just hasn’t been…” She closes her eyes. “Able to say it.”

* * *

Marinette loves him. She said she loved Chat Noir, and _Ladybug_ said she loved _Adrien_.

He arrives at the meeting place for his and Multimouse’s first patrol, unspooling the trompo into his hands, and sees Multimouse’s familiar space buns. That’s Marinette right there—Marinette, his best civilian friend aside from Nino. A girl who he would—and _has_—dropped everything to help. A girl he hasn’t been able to get out of his head for the last week, since Ladybug dropped her bomb on him. A girl who, if it hadn’t been for Ladybug, he would absolutely be in love with.

She looks up at him, her eyes widening, and she squeaks. “H-hi!” she yelps. “Are you, um, Queen Bee’s replacement?”

“Yep,” he says, pressing his fists to his hips with an exaggerated gaze off into the distance. “Sapis, at your service.”

“Sapis?” she says. “Wisdom?”

He grins. “Old Latin pun,” he says. “Si sapis, sis apis.” He holds out a hand to shake hers. “If you’re wise? Be a bee.”

She stares at him, and for a moment he’s worried that he’s ruined his _third_ first impression with her—but then she lights up, and starts to laugh.

It’s bright and sunny and it shoots right through his heart, and he realizes: _I am completely and utterly screwed._


	2. In Which Too Many People Turn Patrols Into Dates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday AlexSeanchai!

Convincing Fu to let her bring out the other Miraculi on a semi-permanent basis had been a chore in and of itself. Feast had proven the depth of his paranoia—though, to be fair, it’s not technically paranoia if people are actually out to get you—and she wasn’t prepared to lose Tikki a second time. He’d refused to allow her to bring out more Miraculi, until she’d forcefully reminded him that A. she is a full-fledged Guardian now, he’d said that himself, and B. She, a _child_, is the one on the front lines while he hides. (She hates bringing that up, because she _knows_ why he’s doing it, but it was that or go insane.)

Eventually, he’d relented, though he’d let her take only the ones who’d already proven themselves. Which was fine, it wasn’t like she was planning on doing any recruiting anytime soon.

She’d been planning to hand out all of the Miraculi herself, as usual, but as soon as she’d had them in her hands she’d paused, reconsidered. Chat was right—trying to do everything herself has been driving her insane. She already knows that, if she goes down, Chat can take the earrings and Mister Bug it up—or, in an emergency situation, just Cataclysm a butterfly and wait for her to get back up—so there’s a little bit of the weight off there. But the fact is, he was originally never supposed to know the identities of any of the backup, and if she were to have gone down in that situation he’d have been left to continue the fight alone in a way that she never would. The thought makes her want to vomit.

And she can’t deny that the way Chat’s face lit up when she asked him to help her distribute the Miraculi had done something funny in her tummy. Not _love_, of course, nor _attraction_—_absolutely not that, stop laughing Tikki_—but _something_. She’d laid out all of the Miraculi Fu had let her take on their favorite rooftop, then, after a moment’s consideration, handed him the Horse, the Bee, and the Dragon (she’d briefly passed her hand over the snake, but she saw the way he tried to suppress a shudder; curious as his reaction made her, she knew she couldn’t let herself think about what that was about, lest she learn something she shouldn’t).

* * *

She picked up the Fox, the Snake, the Turtle, and the Mouse, then paused, thought, made a decision. “You already know who the mouse is,” she said. “If you ever need an illusionist, and I’m not there to help you...” She held up the foxtail necklace. “This one goes to the Ladyblogger.”

Chat froze. “My Lady,” he said, the Dragon choker dangling between his claws, “are you... sure I should know this?”

She nodded. “You said yourself, I can’t keep doing this alone,” she said. “You’re my partner.”

There’d been no big meeting; someone might’ve noticed that Multimouse wasn’t there, and that would lead to questions she doesn’t want to answer. She’d made a list of reasons why, but surprisingly, Chat had asked for none of them, simply agreeing with her out of hand.

The whole thing is going swimmingly, and yet she can’t help feeling guilty about how she’d arranged the patrols. She’d insisted on not letting Rena Rouge and Carapace patrol together, since there was no way either of them could tear away from each other in a non-emergency situation, so for the first two few nights she’d rotated them through everyone _but_ each other, just to keep from ill-advised makeouts. And yet, here she is, having intentionally arranged herself on patrol with _Adrien_...

God, she’s a hypocrite.

She can honestly say that after a week of letting other holders cover patrols, she’s more rested than she’s been in a while. But she’s done so many stupid things to spend time with Adrien, it’s not like one more will make a difference at this point, right? And at least this way she’s doing something productive with it. She hopes. If she can, you know, actually hold it together around him to do anything.

“Tikki,” she groans into her hands, her elbows propped on her desk. “Tell me I’m doing the right thing.” The cursor blinks on the anonymous Google schedule she’s been sharing with the team, waiting for her to confirm the time of her first patrol as Multimouse. Her first patrol with Adrien. She wonders, idly, what he’ll choose for his name.

Tikki sighs from her spot on Marinette’s pincushion, rolling a chocolate chip between her paws. “I don’t know,” she says. “Master Fu had very good reasons not to let the rest of us out of the box, but you _also_ have very good reasons.” She looks up at Marinette, her blue eyes shining with compassion. “I do worry about you.”

“I’m just happy to be out and about,” Mullo says, climbing onto Marinette’s phone and poking the screen with delight. “So much new technology! I didn’t get to see this last time you wore me.”

“Not that,” Marinette says, dropping her hands onto the desk—then she tilts her head. “Well, _yes_ that, but not what I’m asking about right now.” She sighs, staring at the calendar block. “Am I being... selfish, with this schedule?”

Tikki purses her lips, then turns the chocolate chip on its side and starts rolling it back and forth on the desk beneath one paw, staring at it pensively.

“Tikki?” Marinette whispers.

Tikki grimaces. “You _know_ you’re not supposed to use your powers for personal gain,” she says. “I’ve told you before.”

Marinette swallows. “I remember,” she whispers.

Tikki tilts her head. “On the other hand,” she says, “this might be more practical than you think.”

Marinette blinks. “What?”

“If he is going to be a full-time member of the team, it might help to acclimate yourself to his presence?” Tikki says, a small smile spreading across her face. “We wouldn’t want you to start tripping over your words in the middle of combat.” She flings the chocolate chip straight up, then launches her tiny body from the desk, swallowing it in a single gulp in a manner reminiscent of the poster for _Jaws_.

“Hey!” Marinette protests. “I did fine last time!”

“You said one sentence and you had to use Sass to practice it eight times first,” Tikki says with a smug grin, crossing her arms.

Marinette bites her lip, then rolls her eyes. “You see how mean she is to me?” she says to Mullo.

“Hm? What?” the rat says, her head perking up and twisting back and forth. “I’m sorry, I was distracted by this...” Her turns back to the phone, where she’s been swiping between app pages with wide eyes. “Um, magic screen thing.”

Tikki giggles. “Not everything humans do is magic, Mullo.” She flits around to Marinette’s eye level. “Marinette. The day I told you not to use your powers for personal gain? That was our third time out. I didn’t _know_ you then. I do now.” She reaches out, laying her palm on Marinette’s cheek. “You’ve grown into a responsible and professional young woman, and Master Fu has selected you to be the next Guardian.” She floats back. “I trust your judgment. And besides, you deserve a break.” She gestures to the computer screen, where the calendar is still waiting, unfinished. “If this is what you want to do? Then you should do it.”

Marinette swallows as tears brim in her eyes. “I—thank you, Tikki,” she whispers.

“Of course,” Tikki says, zipping forward to hug Marinette’s cheek again. “I love you so much, Marinette.”

“I love you too,” Marinette says, cupping her Kwami to her cheek with her palm.

“Oh my Guardians!” Mullo sobs. “You—you two— you are...” She rolls over onto her back, letting out a tiny melodramatic wail. “Your friendship is so perfect!”

Tikki snorts, backing away from Marinette’s cheek. “Okay. Back down there, Squeakers.”

Marinette sets her jaw, looking at the screen. “So,” she says, “I’m doing this?”

Tikki nods. Mullo rolls back onto her stomach, looking back at her expectantly.

Marinette nods back. “I’m doing this,” she says, and presses her finger down on _Enter_.

*

_This was a mistake this was a mistake this was a mistake this was a mistake—_

Sapis (who looks _amazing_ in his costume, his gossamer half-cape floating off his back, furry cuffs on his wrists, black streaks in his carefully styled hair to resemble antennae—oh, she’s going to be _gushing_ about this to Tikki later) is looking at her with eyes like the night sky, golden irises inset on black sclera, and she feels all the breath leave her body. She’s seen enough of Adrien’s patented “Soft Eyes” in candid shots from Alya that she thought she’d be immune, but _nope_, photographs have _in no way_ prepared her for the real thing. Sweet Kwamis, she’s going to die and she hasn’t even said a word to him yet.

_Say something, **Ladybug**_, she tells herself. But under Sapis’ gaze, in Multimouse’s suit that she’s suddenly aware came out far more cute than her usual reassuringly minimalist design, she doesn’t feel like Ladybug, so when she opens her mouth, she only manages to squeak.

_Nice_, she thinks, mentally kicking herself. _Well done. Very professional._

“H-hi!” she yelps. “Are you, um...” She grips her elbow, her free hand playing with the tail of the jump rope tied around her waist. “Queen Bee’s replacement?”

“Yep,” he says in an exaggeratedly deep voice. He takes a Superman stance, pressing his fists to his hips, and turns his eyes dramatically to look somewhere slightly behind her. It looks generally ridiculous, and he clearly knows it. “Sapis, at your service.”

“Sapis?” she says, squinting one eye, trying to remember if she knows what that means in Latin. Sagesse... that’s the same root, right? “Wisdom?”

His whole face lights up, and her heart leaps in her chest. “Old Latin pun,” he says. “Si sapis, sis apis.” He steps forward, holding out a hand. “If you’re wise? Be a bee.”

She stares at him, looking at his hand, then his face, then his hand, then his face. She has—she knows what she’s supposed to do here, but this is _Adrien_ trying to introduce himself, and she _knows_ it’s him, and he _doesn’t_ know it’s her, and she has to get this impression _exactly right_. The joke is stupid, silly, it’s so very Chat Noir that she’s caught off guard and suddenly her chest is bubbling, she’s laughing, and oh god is he going to think that she’s laughing at him? Is he going to be disappointed? Is he going to be crushed? Oh Kwamis, is he going to hate her forever?

And then his eyes shut, and he giggles, pure and clear, and it’s just like that moment after the umbrella closed on her head. Lightning strikes in her heart all over again, and it’s everything she can do not to fall on her steadily reddening face.

Finally, he calms down, but when his golden-black eyes turn back to her he’s still beaming. “So,” he says, gesturing to her necklace, “Chat Noir tells me you’re really good with that thing.”

She reaches up, fingers it nervously. “I—pretty good, yeah.”

Sapis grins, hoisting his trompo. “Wanna show me what you’ve got?”

A slow, sly grin spreads across her face in answer as she reaches for her jump rope, the confidence building in her chest. This is familiar territory. This, she can handle. “You’re on, bee boy.”

Adrien wants to see what she can do? _He won’t even know what hit him._

**Author's Note:**

> [Find me on Tumblr.](http://www.galahadwilder.tumblr.com)


End file.
